


Well bedded

by torch



Series: poptarts [4]
Category: Backstreet Boys, NSYNC, Popslash, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: DWNOGA, Fusion, M/M, Poptarts, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-04
Updated: 2006-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 08:20:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torch/pseuds/torch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>JC Chasez, intrepid scientist, gets his boyfriend into bed (and vice versa).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well bedded

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Halimede. Many thanks to Mary Crawford.

"I like this place," JC said, and petted the wall a little because it was nice and sturdy and right next to him, holding him up.

"I can tell," Carter said.

JC leaned the other way instead, because Carter was nice and sturdy, too, and much more fun to pet. "You like this place, too. They have boats."

Carter got the door open. "They do. And beds, and you should be in one."

"It was that pink stuff with the bubbles," JC said and hiccuped slightly. He wrapped an arm around Carter's neck and tried to kiss his nose.

Carter kicked the door shut behind them. "Bed," he said.

"Yeah," JC agreed, and licked Carter's neck.

"Just you," Carter said, and tried to unwrap JC's arm from around his neck. "Cause we're on a mission, and I don't think we should, you know."

"I think we should," JC said seriously. "Lots of you know." He tried to lick Carter's neck again, overbalanced, and fell back on the bed. "These people have no sheets. How can they have no sheets?" JC wiggled on the bed. It wiggled back. "Feels nice, though." Firm and soft at the same time, like rubber, only it smelled good. He rubbed his fingertips over it.

Carter squinted at him. "Okay, I know _you're_ drunk, but why do _I_ think the bed's moving?"

"Magic fingers," JC said. He ran a hand over his stomach and tugged his shirt up, stroking his ribs, his chest. If he stretched his legs, he could rub his toes against Carter's thighs. "You remember where I put my boots?"

"Under the table in that reception room with the blue walls," Carter said. "I'll go back and get them. You just stay there."

"No, wait." JC started to unfasten his pants. "You have to help me get out of these." He twisted his hips, trying to push the pants down, and the bed seemed to roll under him. "Whoa." JC stroked slowly across his chest again, because wow, that felt good.

Carter tugged at his pants legs, and JC squirmed agreeably. The more bare skin he got against the not-rubber of the bed, the better it felt. Something was tickling his neck just below his ear, almost like a rough tongue licking at him, and he mm-ed to himself and rubbed a thumb across his right nipple.

"Going now," Carter said, but he didn't move, just stood there looking down at JC with darkening eyes. "Are you really going to, you know..."

"I was kinda hoping you'd do it for me," JC said. He wrapped a hand around his cock, just lightly, not stroking yet, just heat and skin and a little pressure.

Carter groaned. "Fuck."

JC stretched and squirmed some more, looking at Carter under his lashes and then rubbing his cheek against the bed. And it really was like magic fingers, like a hundred fingers, a thousand fingers stroking up and down his back and his legs and caressing and coaxing and sliding warm and slick across his skin and pressing against him and up and in and oh, my. JC opened his eyes wide.

"I think this bed is gonna have sex with me," he said. "I think," he breathed out on a moan, "I think you should join in."

"Fuck," Carter said again, already yanking his shirt off.

After that, things got a bit confusing.

JC was pretty sure the warm weight on top of him was Carter, and the warm pressure underneath was the bed, but that was before they started rolling around. JC kept expecting them to fall off the bed, but they never did, and there was too much happening for him to take the time to really worry about it. Carter's mouth was on his, cool with spring-water instead of pink bubbly stuff, and fingers were stroking his chest and teasing his nipples and trailing over his sides and back and the insides of his thighs and fucking him slowly and gently.

JC was also pretty sure Carter didn't have that many fingers. He rolled them over again so he could give Carter a blowjob. The bed was very helpful.

"Oh, God," Carter said, and then, a bit later, "Not in my _ear_!" and then, not very much later at all, "Mrph!"

JC tried to look up, but his hair was in his eyes, and then the bed did something truly obscene to him, and he moaned, and Carter came with a muffled yell. "Oh, fuck," JC said when he could speak again, and the bed took him at his word. He bit Carter's hip when he came, and Carter didn't even twitch.

Eventually, JC managed to crawl up a bit and slump down with his head more or less in Carter's armpit. He just lay there, breathing, for a while, and then he felt fingers, actual human fingers, trail across the back of his neck. "You okay?"

"Mm. Yeah." JC giggled a bit, soundlessly.

Carter wound his fingers into JC's hair. "What's so funny?"

"You think everyone's got a bed like this? I mean, like Dr. Yeoh and Major Lorne and—"

Carter's fingers slid from JC's cheek to cover his mouth. "Shut up, shut up, do not make me think of my CO having sex with alien furniture, shut _up_..."

JC bit at Carter's fingers and snickered out loud. "I'll just ask him tomorrow if he slept well. I mean, without mentioning the furniture sex or anything."

" _Not_ thinking about it," Carter muttered, rolling over on his side so they were face to face.

"Yeah, okay." JC tried not to grin, and fail. "You didn't mind having it, though, did you?"

The bed shifted under them, pressing them closer together. Carter thumped it with his fist until it stopped moving. "There's a lot of stuff I don't mind when it's you," he said, pressing even closer than the bed had, and his mouth was very warm and very soft.


End file.
